


Steady

by LadyAJ_13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapped Derek, M/M, Rescue, but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 07:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14397375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAJ_13/pseuds/LadyAJ_13
Summary: The gun is steady, Derek realises.“Oh honey,” she croons, and its the same soft voice she's been whispering in his ear the whole time she's had him tied up. “Don't you know children shouldn't play with guns?”“Who said I was playing?”





	Steady

**Author's Note:**

> Written from the prompt: “Don't you know children shouldn't play with guns?” / “Who said I was playing?”

The gun is steady, Derek realises. Stiles is stiller than he has any right to be, hopped up as he usually is on caffeine and his natural sixteen year old jitteriness. But the gun almost seems like its steadying him, and there's not shake in his arms as he points it squarely at Madison.

“Oh honey,” she croons, and its the same soft voice she's been whispering in his ear the whole time she's had him tied up. Like her voice is the sweet, sticky drip of honey across his chest, when the reality is seeping blood. “Don't you know children shouldn't play with guns?”

“Who said I was playing?”

His voice is different too, Derek thinks. It's harder. More like seventeen, when the supernatural lifestyle – Derek – really bit into his life.

Madison chuckles. “Just because you're the sheriff's boy doesn't mean you know what you're doing,” she admonishes. “Challenging _me_!”

“Stiles,” he groans. Stiles needs to get out of here. This isn't the first time Derek has been in this situation, he'll get out, he always does -

“Yeah, 'cause I come rescue you man. Stop acting like you're the big I am. We've been over this.” Huh, maybe he'd been speaking out loud. Weird what wolfsbane could do. Hadn't they had that conversation at eighteen, when Stiles said he was an adult in everything but “having a damn drink, so let me make my own decisions, Derek?”

“He's mine,” the honey has slipped from Madison's voice now; the breathiness solidified to a whine. It's unpleasant. Nails on a – on a school thing. Stiles snorts. That's a familiar sound. He likes Stiles' laugh. It's a nice sound.

“Okay, Derek's tripping so I think its about time we wrap this up. Dad, you got everything you need?”

The reply is faint – Madison probably can't hear it, but the whisper of a crackle and the disembodied voice of the Sheriff says Stiles is wearing some kind of earpiece - “Yep, moving in.”

It all gets a bit blurry after that. Lots of bodies – humans, strangers, they smell weird – but Stiles is crowded in close blocking the worst of it, and his gun is tucked away and instead those steady hands are working on the knots Madison wrenched. 

He's falling, and the sixteen year old, seventeen year old, eighteen year old Stiles suddenly coalesces into this Stiles – twenty three, Derek remembers. He's a cop now. The teenager is gone, and its a good job that those warm arms can hold him up now, because his legs suddenly  _can't._

“Alright sourwolf,” he's jostled further up Stiles' side and it _hurts_ but also it means he's got a line of Stiles pressed against him, smelling of pack and home and peppermint tea, because of course – he drinks that now, after Derek mentioned the bitter coffee tang masking his scent one evening when they were tangled up on the couch together. “I've got you.”

He has, thinks Derek, as he floats out of wherever they are, nose tucked into the crook of Stiles' neck, breathing deep to offset the pain of movement. Nothing else really matters, right now. Stiles has got this.

 


End file.
